The Tale Of Ithandalis Fay
by CrystalPrince8208
Summary: Ithandalis Fay is an elf with a past unlike any other. His life completely changes when he get pulled into a great adventure as he finds himself pitted directly against what may be the greatest threat to Thedas the world has ever known. The Blight
1. Before The Beginning

I have always loved Arlathan.

Even when I was so young I couldn't walk, speak, or read I thought the city was more beautiful than anything else I had ever seen. I can remember to this day the scent of the ocean air, and the sensation of the grass beneath my bare feet.

But of course nothing good can remain forever. I remember the centuries leading up to the end of my people's civilization just as vividly as I can remember my first day in that majestic city.

The beginning of the end came quietly, shrouded in subtlety, and hidden behind in plain sight for to see.

The beginning of our end came with our first encounters with the Quick Children, the Humans.

In truth the meeting itself was a harmless thing fraught with much fascination, fear, and curiosity. My people were delighted at the encounter. We were overcome with our desire to learn as much as we possibly could about these new people and their customs. Or at least we were at the beginning.

Very soon the Elves that spent great lengths of time around the Shemlen began to notice that slowly, but surely, their bodies that had remained on the same state that it had been in the twentieth summer began to change.

It was a subtle change, unremarkable really in the grand scheme. Or so we thought until one of our own died of causes we could not determine. Malthalan was a good friend of the Shemlen and spent many of his years giving them aid whenever he had the time to spare. He was the first Elf to die of old age.

Malthalan's death through my people into a panic. The discovery that the very presence of the Quick Children could taint our bodies to the point of bring death down on us as we slept was the most terrifying realization to ever become known to the Elven people.

With speed that I at the time thought impossible my people banished every human in our empire to the land the humans ruled by the name of the Tevinter Imperium. The banishment of human to their own lands calmed my people and our lives went on until the Magisters of Tevinter grew afraid of the incredible magics of the elven people and sought to preemptively destroy us before we could take action against their empire.

So began the great war between the Elven people and the Tevinter Imperium.

My kind called forth incredible magics the likes of which had never before been seen, even by elven eyes, in order to defend our lands. Entire forests of trees were animated to fight the armies of Tevinter and the very earth shook and cracked beneath the feet of Tevinter soldiers causing many to fall deep i to the earth never to be seen again.

But to every great working of elven magic the Magisters had an answer.

They casted forth vast columns of flame to burn the Slyvans and pulled the parted earth back together with powerful magic. Only to respond to our challenge by calling on the potent powers of blood magic to ravage my people with waves of sanguine power.

We tried all we could to repel our attackers, and for many years we slowed their invasion to a measly crawl.

But everything changed when Arlathan fell.

Thousands of slaves were sacrificed to provide the power required to fuel the spell the Magisters used to send the great city crumbling into the sea.

After that great loss the elven people soon fell to the power of Tevinter and a vast majority of the survivors were enslaved. Including me.

Over the centuries the famed immortality of the elven people was slowly eroded until not even newly born elves retained our once renowned longevity.

Or at least most of us lost our timeless youth.

I never did.

I don't know why I'm immune to what my people called the Quickening, but my unique immunity became a source of great danger for me over the next few centuries.

But I'll leave the details of that story for later.

In the meantime I would like to tell you of the greatest adventure I ever embarked on.

So gather close my friends, and listen well for my story is full of everything you could ever ask for. Action, adventure, romance, drama and intrigue.I can practically taste your curiosity, fine then I'll not delay any longer as I present to all who wish to hear it.

The Tale of Ithandalis Fay.


	2. The Ancient Elf

_Shit shit shit shit shit!_ I thought as I ran through the forest. The sound of plate armor clanging behind me doing a splendid job of discouraging me from slowing down my pace. Not that my aching leg muscles seemed to get the memo.

I knew from the surrounding wilderness that I hadn't been running for as long as it felt. Not that the thought did much to alleviate my fear at my predicament.

It sounded as if my I was putting some distance between me and my pursuers, but I didn't dare sneak a glance behind me to confirm my suspicions. I couldn't afford to slow down enough to avoid slamming face first into a tree to make taking my eyes off of the stretch of land in front of me safe.

"You may as well give up!" I heard a male voice shout from somewhere behind me. "We can keep up this pace for hours. Do you really think you can run for that long?"

I knew he was right, but giving up wasn't an option. He could've been bluffing, but I doubted it. Templars were nothing if not persistent.

I kept running for a few more minutes listening to the ruckus made by the Templars as their armor got caught on branches and other vegetation. The almost clumsy pursuit of the religious soldiers starkly contrasting my own nearly silent trek as I deftly avoided the nearly imperceptible obstacles that were ever present in any forest.

However despite my efficient movement I was certain that evading the Templars was going to be nearly impossible unless I found some way to slow them down.

As I leapt over a large tree root an idea struck me. I reached for the well of power that rested deep within the core of my being. A cool sensation not unlike standing in a mid autumn breeze coursed throughout my body as I sent a jolt of power through my feet into the ground I was walking on. I sent the power into the large root that I had evaded not five seconds before.

I heard one of my hunters yelp in surprise as the tree root grabbed his ankle and flung him back into one of the surrounding trees.

I allowed myself a short chuckle and redoubled my efforts to put distance between us.

I thought I'd escaped my pursuers when a burning hot explosion of sensory activity ripped through me. I could feel the power within me try to escape the current of liquid fire as the attack ate away at my mana and left me physically weaker.

Despite the surge of pain as a Templar Smited me I didn't lose my footing and ran for what felt like an eternity, but what was actually only about thirty seconds before the Templar let loose another burst of antimagic and my world went black.

(LINE BREAK)

"What do mean I can't kill him?"

I awoke to the sound of a rather annoyed man apparently complaining because he wasn't allowed to execute me.

"You know our purpose," Said another voice, this one with a distinctly feminine cadence. "We will take him to the Circle as is our duty. I should not have to remind you of that." She scolded.

It was about then that I realized that I hadn't yet opened my eyes. Not much time must have passed from when I'd fallen unconscious. The only real difference was the set of manacles clamped over my wrists.

Even if the runes carved in the steel of the cuffs hadn't tipped me off the feeling of emptiness where mana should have been.

"Fenedhis Lasa!" I swore in my native tongue.

I saw the female Templar turn her head toward me in what looked like a curious expression. I smiled politely, but I didn't speak.

"What?" She said her helmet obscured her face. I rolled my eyes

"It's elven," I explained with more patience in my voice than I had expected. "It's the equivalent to 'dammit' in the common tongue."

Her curiosity apparently sated, the woman turned back to her male partner.

"Come on. It's about a day's journey by foot to Lake Calenhad we should get a move on." She walked past me and I felt a rough hand grab me by the back of my neck and lift me onto my feet before shoving me forward harshly.

"Dirthara-ma." I said to him. Than I picked up my pace until I was standing just behind the woman.

"What did you say that time?" She asked without bothering to conceal her question from her partner by speaking softly.

"May you learn." I replied just as loudly as she.

(LINE BREAK)

I hated the Circle almost as soon as I stepped inside the tower.

It was a very pretty building, but that didn't score it any points from me. Tevinter was also very pretty, although centuries of enslavement certainly ruined the aesthetic appeal of the country for me.

I was lead to a room on the second floor of the tower by my two guards.

The room appeared to be an office of sorts. The centerpiece of the room was a desk behind which sat an older man wearing robes that marked him as a mage.

The enchanted manacles were removed from my wrists, but my entourage had already left the room before I could say anything. Instead I turned to face the old man.

"It's a pleasure to meet you," Said the man. "I am Irving, the-."

"You're the First Enchanter," I interrupted him. "It doesn't take a genius to figure that out."

Irving paused for a few seconds before continuing.

"Than I doubt that I will have to explain the rules of Kinloch Hold to you?" He asked with just a touch of sarcasm.

"This isn't my first stay in Kinloch." My answer had the mage raising both of his eyebrows.

"I would know I you'd been here before."

"No. You'd know if I'd been here while you were First Enchanter. My last stay here was before your time."

I'd givne up keeping my age a secret a long time ago. Besides, almost nobody believes me anyway. Sometimes the truth is the best lie.

"You barely look twenty, much less going on sixty." Irving retorted.

"That's because I'm not sixy," I said with a straight face. "Somewhere around 7,000 is a touch more accurate."

If the look on Irving's face was any indication, he didn't believe a word I was saying.

"Pardon?"

"I don't expect you to believe me. Just know this." I allowed my tone to deepen so I spoke this next part much more quietly. "I have been evading Templars and escaping Circles since the first age. It is not a matter of if I can escape, it is a matter of when. I have no desire to spend the rest of my life in this prison however pretty it might be." I looked around Irving's office and briefly considered my situation. "Luckily I'm not in any rush, so I might as well see how much magical training has improved since last I occupied a Circle." Irving rolled his eyes at me, but there was a subtle smile on his thin lips.

"Than I bid you welcome to Kinloch hold. You will find your robes in your trunk next to your bed in the Apprentice quarters."

"I expect I will be Harrowed in short order? I know it does not take long to organize the ritual, but I understand that you need to be sure that I am skilled enough to have a reasonable chance of success." I allowed my naturally cocksure demeanor infest my tone more so than usual.

"If we find that your abilities are potent enough to justify a Harrowing than yes it will likely happen within the month. Now off you go-." He cut himself off. "I'm dearly sorry, but it would appear that I completely forgot to ask you your name." I smiled once more and nodded at the mage.

"My name is Ithandalis Fay, but if you'll have a hard time with the pronunciation than just call me Ithan."

"Than I hope you enjoy your time in Kinloch Hold Ithan. The apprentice quarters are on the first floor just past the entrance to the basement and before the door leading outside. You will be given one hour to settle in before you will be sent to Senior Enchanter Uldred who will assess your magical capabilities. Dismissed."

(LINE BREAK)

Compared to the Circle in Kirkwall the Apprentice quarters in Kinloch hold were down right lavish. The bed was clean and comfortable, and the trunk for personal belongings even had a lock on it. Although I was pretty sure every Templar would have a key to the trunks it was the thought behind the gesture that meant something to me.

I made a point of slipping on my new robes as soon as I could. The cloth was soft against my skin and the feeling of the enchantment on the robes that served to reinforce the will of an apprentice was a comforting presence in the back of my mind.

"You must be the new guy!"

I turned around to see a human man with long blonde hair tied back in a ponytail. He wore a single gold loop earring in his right ear. "Um andarren artisan?" He said absolutely butchering the elven greeting.

"Close it's andaran atish'an. It means 'Enter this place in peace.' It's also a bit formal for this environment." He waved his hand dismissively.

"Nothing is too formal for such an occasion." He announced with a degree of drama that most people wouldn't have been able to attempt without coming off as pompous, but he made it work for him. "I am Anders, Spirit-Healer and resident escape artist."

Spirit-Healers were an uncommon sight last I heard, so the title grabbed my attention.

"It's a pleasure," I replied "I am Ithandalis Fay. My specialty is elven magic. Not that elven magic is of much use in a tower now that I think about it."

Anders chuckled under his breath and gestured to the hallway.

"Uldred sent me to get you. He's in the library, and I don't advise making him wait. I'll see you later."

(LINE BREAK)

The testing was utterly grueling, but although not unpleasant. Unlike the older mage named Uldred who was one of the most unpleasant people I had ever met.

Even so showing off my abilities has always been one of my favorite ways to spend an afternoon.

"Well you look to be in a good mood." Said Anders from somewhere behind me.

After Uldred was satisfied with the thoroughness of his testing I decided to run through a few staff drills in a discreet corner of the library. If I wasn't in a Circle I wouldn't have bothered with the discretion, but last I checked mages weren't allowed to learn or practice and style of martial combat, and I wasn't exactly using the staff to sling bolts of arcane power.

At the sound of Ander's voice I returned the staff to its place on my back, or at least I tried too. If the mage's staff had been made to be used as a proper weapon it would be balanced so that it could be wielded without throwing the wielder of balance.

Which is exactly what happened when I tried to return it to it's sheath. The long stick of wood slipped from my fingers and almost hit the stone floor when it froze mid fall.

"Woah man careful." Anders said and I noticed that he had his hand held out in front of him. He jerked his hand up and the weapon rose up to chest level. I grabbed it out of the air and carefully put it in the holster.

"Ma serannas lethallin," I said nodding my head in thanks. "I expect to be pulled away for my Harrowing sooner rather than later."

"Do you really think you did that well?" Anders asked as a leaned on one of the huge bookshelves. His position was perfect for keeping me out of sight. I appreciated the gesture.

"I do," I replied "This isn't my first time in a Circle. I'm just here to learn what I can before I decide to move on. These kinds of places aren't equipped to hold someone like me."

"What about your phylactery?" He asked curiously.

I mentally scolded myself for forgetting about the vial of my blood the Templars had probably already drawn so I could be tracked in case I escaped.

"I'll have to destroy it," I decided. "I assume they're kept in a repository of some sort? That'll probably be in an easily defensible position that's probably the top level of the tower. What's up there?" I asked.

"The Harrowing chamber-." He wasn't finished speaking, but I doubted any of the rest of his rant would be of use to me.

"Than it won't be there. Too hard to secure." I paused for second to think. "Irving mentioned that there was a door to a basement. I'll bet gold the repository is in there behind a door warded against magic."

Anders shot me a disbelieving look.

"How could you possibly know that?"

I smirked at the handsome mage.

"The White Spire employs a similar tactic, if more thoroughly. I'd bet more gold that Irving and the Knight-Commander have the keys to the warded door. Doesn't matter either way really. It won't be an obstacle to someone who knows what I know. You don't happen to have a knack for ice magic do you?"

Now it was Anders' chance to be smug.

"It just so happens that I do. What of it?"

I grinned

"I've always wanted to cross Lake Calenhad on a bridge of ice. What about you?"

(LINE BREAK)

Hello my dear readers! I was going to address you all in the Prologue, but I felt like this was the better option for reasons of narrative flow. I'm not sure if working on this in addition to my other piece _The Crystilyn Twist_ is really a good idea but I decided to throw caution to the wind and do it anyway.

I wanted to make it clear for new readers of my work that feedback (Positive or negative doesn't matter to me) is my crack cocaine.

One of the most incredible parts of being a writer for a creative medium such as fanfiction is that since easily accessible lanes of communication are provided by the website a reader that doesn't like an aspect of one of my projects they can tell me so that I can tailor my work so that it better appeals to my audience. So please review so I can make this piece as incredible as it deserves to be. Have a pleasant day my dears.


	3. Escaping Kinloch Hold

"How will you get past this door?" Asked Anders as we came across a single door in the basement hallway to the repository.

"I know an old elven spell that will do the trick," I replied coolly. "You'll have to stay behind in any case. Elven traveling magic doesn't do well with passengers."

"So what you think I should just go back to bed and let you brave the underbelly of the Circle alone?" Anders said with more than hint of incredulity. "Fuck that. How do we get through the door?"

I cradled my head in my hands and shook it in annoyance.

"It's not a matter of what I want Anders, it's a matter of what's within my abilities. I'm not someone who travels with a ton of people, so I never thought to adapt these spells to work right on anyone but myself," I explained. "The spell I was planning on using, a clever incantation by the name of Stone's Throw, is more likely to leave you encased in solid stone than actually get you to the other side. The only spell I can think of that has any chance of working would quite literally pull you into the earth and drag you through a very small crevice underground and spit you out somewhere relatively close to me. Emphasis on relatively." I hoped Anders was the type of man that listened when people spoke instead of the type of man that insisted on arguing even though he had no background in the subject matter. Such as Ancient Elven Magic.

"Than use that one!" Anders said with exasperation heavy in his voice.

"No Anders," I said more forcefully this time "The last person I used that spell on ended up a lifeless pulp of meat and bone that was unrecognizable as a human, and I'm no better at it now than I was then. I'm not taking you with and that's final. Now give me some of your blood." The young mage looked appalled at my demand.

"By the Maker is this blood magic?" I rolled my eyes at the Anders' reaction.

"How did you think I was going to pick out your phylactery over all of the other ones in that room?" I asked with more than a bit of bite. Anders approached me, hesitantly pulled out a knife, and started to rolled up his sleeve. I handed him a small vial and he filled it with his blood. "Thanks I'll be right back.

I approached the stone wall and imbued my body with the Old Magic. I stepped into the wall and my body merged with the stone. I floated through the stone until I knew intuitively that I was past both of the doors that were meant to secure the repository.

I stepped out of the wall to see that the room was already occupied by three people. Two men and a women wearing Apprentice, Mage, and Chanters robes respectively. The two mages reached for their staves at my sudden appearance, and the chantress held a dagger in her right hand.

I only had a second to analyze the situation before one of the trio had the chance to get the first strike.

I began the encounter with a Spirit Bolt at the mage in Apprentice robes. The bolt of magical power hit him in the chest and his head his the stone floor on the way down. I felt a dash of worry that he might've died, but I knew better than to dwell on that when a fight was going on.

I barely avoided a lightning bolt fired off by the other mage when the chantress closed the distance between us and started going for my throat with her dagger.

I bobbed and weaved more to avoid the mage's spell than the woman's knife. She clearly had no idea what she was doing. Her movements were clumsy and she lacked the strength to make a cut anywhere that might cause me problems. I pulled together a spell of sleep and doused her in it. The woman hit the floor like a rock.

The mage on the other hand was surprisingly adapt at combat magic. Not a single movement of his was wasted and his aim was spot on. If I hadn't had thousands of years of experience to fall back on I would've been in serious trouble. As it was I barely had a chance get any hits in.

I evaded his spells with skill honed over many years of dueling. I kept my own movements minimal only moving as much as was necessary to avoid each attack.

I saw my opening when my opponent thrust his hands forward and created a cone of chilling frost. I somersaulted left outside the reach of the spell all the while gathering nature magic in my right hand. I came out of the maneuver on my feet and flung the energy at the mage.

He raised his hand so it would intersect the magic. He dispersed mana from it in an attempt to deflect the attack, but as the spell touched his hand he looked on in shock as his flesh slowly transformed into granite. The petrification spell coursed through his body until the human mage's flesh was fully transformed into stone.

After incapacitating the mage I wasted no time in finding Anders' and my Phylacteries. I found them both on shelves just up a flight of stairs from where our fight took place.

I almost smashed the vials of enchanted blood against the wall before it occurred to me that a mage skilled in telekinesis might be able to pull the blood from the wall and put it into a new vial. With that in mind I carefully placed the two vials of blood in the pockets of my robe.

Then I made my way through the blasted down wall into a room that was absolutely filled to the brim with powerful magical objects. I quickly realized that the room the phylacteries were stored in was probably a vault of sorts, and this was the actual repository.

An idea struck me as I saw a section of the room that had been reserved for elven artifacts. I stepped over to the shelves and quickly scanned them. I soon found a set of Dalish style mages robes and a silverite ring with an intricate vine engraving. Hidden in the vines were the characters in the elven language that spelled out a phrase that always brought a touch of warmth to my heart. I whispered the words softly to myself and slipped the ring onto my finger and as quickly as I could manage I threw on the Dalish robes.

The familiar clothing felt good on my skin as I felt the magic imbued upon the robes augment my connection to the fade, and strengthen my body. I knew the robes had other properties woven into it. I'd had this robe since before Arlathan fell and I was infinitely glad that I hadn't lost it the the Circles storerooms.

Once I was wearing the robes I ran back to the 'blood vault' as I'd taken to calling the vault filled with phylacteries in my head. I cast fresh petrification spell on the three unconscious people in the vault and stepped back into the wall.

I stepped out into the corridor where I left Anders to find four Templars and the First Enchanter already there. I caught myself before I revealed my presence to the knights and analyzed the situation.

Anders was being held by one of the Templars. He had those mana blocking shackles on, and the First Enchanter was facing him. From inside the stone it was tricky to understand what was being said, but going by tone I would say he wasn't pleased with the younger mage. One of the Templars, an older man wearing Knight-Commander armor, put a hand on Irving's shoulder and the old Enchanter seemed to calm down somewhat.

From within the wall I could've easily just 'floated' through the stone to the island outside of the tower, but I had this feeling of guilt surrounding the scene I was witnessing.

Not matter how you spun it Anders wouldn't have been in those shackles if I hadn't dragged him into my litte plot. Which meant that no matter how out of the way it was I had a responsibility to make sure that Anders was safe at least until I'd left the tower.

I reevaluated the whole scenario paying close attention to any ways I could disable the group long enough to grab Anders.

One option was to petrify them all and than make a run for it. But the more I thought about it the less feasible that idea became. Petrification spells took a lot of work and even if I could've cast the spell at all of them I wasn't confident that the magic resistance enchantments on Templar armor wouldn't protect them from the incantations.

Fighting them head on wasn't an option. I could barely handle being smited by one Templar, let alone four. Which meant I'd have to play this subtle.

I floated back to the room with the trio who'd attacked me and dispelled the petrification effect over all of them and opened the doors between them and the Templars.

The immediate reaction was that of surprise by the trio. The Chantress and the Apprentice threw themselves to the side presumably so the Templars couldn't see the.

The Mage on the other hand took a vastly different approach. He held out his hands and spell conjured lightning tore threw the air and fried the two Templars standing beside the Knight-Commander alive. The pair fell to the ground either dead or unconscious, it was hard to tell.

In response the Knight-Commander drew his armaments and charged through the open doorways his shield raised to protect himself as he made his approach. In turn the Templar restraining Anders shoved the mage to the ground as he moved to support his commanding officer leaving only the First Enchanter to guard Anders.

Once the Templar had entered the blood vault I leapt from the wall and closed the door behind him. As soon as the door aligned with its frame I heard the locks click into place, and I grinned with self satisfaction before I turned to face The First Enchanter of Kinloch Hold.


	4. The Duel

I was pretty sure I couldn't beat a First Enchanter in a duel. Or at least not after the day I'd had.

Irving thrust his staff forward and a cone of fire roared from the end.

I leaped back out of the range of the flames themselves, but I still felt the heat lightly burn my skin. That was the most dangerous part of fire magic. Dodging the fire itself wasn't enough, you had to counter the heat too.

I pulled power from the Fade, wrapped it around myself, and hardened it into a barrier of magical energy.

Just as soon as I finished forming the shield a Spirit Bolt slammed into it.

"Give up Apprentice!" Shouted the First Enchanter through the roar of the flames.

"I am NOT an Apprentice!" I shouted back. While I was yelling I transformed my skin into a stone-like substance.

I felt the air around me chill rapidly and scrambled to counter the ice magic by heating up the air with fire magic. I managed to prevent the cold snap from forming, but I knew where this fight was going.

Irving was better than I thought he was. Every move he made was forcing me to stay on the defensive. I was being denied the option of attacking because if I took the time to put together a respectable offense I would be letting Irving have an opening that he could use to end the fight.

I'd been in this position before and it was never fun, but there wasn't anything I could do about it.

I didn't get any more time to contemplate my situation as a bolt of lightning slammed into my shield leaving a burning scent behind.

This time I was ready. I knew what Irving was trying to do, and I had something of an idea of how to respond.

I turned the flow of magic within me inward instead of outward. I directed the flow of power through my body with every free second I had to spare. I let the magic merge with my muscles and felt the after-effects immediately as it became easier to move. Then I sent power coursing through my mind as my senses sharpened and the world seemed to move just a little slower than it should. I also noticed that my awareness of the magic in my surroundings sharpened significantly.

I was dodging Irving's spells instead of countering them, and as I did I slowly laid the groundwork for my eventual attack. I would shape the foundation for a spell with the motions of my entire body instead of just with my hands. Then I would let that framework hang in the air while I moved to work on another.

Just as I finished my seventh spell my heightened hearing alerted me to the sound of a door opening behind me, muffled by a layer of stone and accented by the clanging of platemail armor.

I took that as my cue.

With an effort of will, I added the finishing touches to the half dozen spells I'd prepared and watched as a flurry of elemental magic forced Irving to backpedal while I rushed forward with spell enhanced speed and grabbed Anders' robe in one hand and pulled him past the First Enchanter.

"What in the Maker's name was that!?" Said, Anders, as I half pulled, half drug, the man behind me.

"Old Elven trick, " I told him. "No time to explain!" I took the stairs two at a time and threw the door to the main floor open.

My enhanced magical senses alerted me to the presence of the half-dozen Templars past the door long before I was through it, but I didn't have time to think about it before I was through the doorway.

I slid my hand down to Anders' manacles and destroyed them with a burst of magical power.

"You're on your own now," I whispered in his ear just before I ducked a Templars blade and rolled out of his reach.

I sprang to my feet a second later only to feel two Templar's preparing to Smite either Anders or me. I assumed that I was the target and charged the two Templars leaping into the air and landing a kick into the forehead of the first of the pair.

I didn't stop to assess the damage I had done to the first before I was on the second.

This time I went low dropping into a roll and let momentum carry me through the legs of the second one bringing him to the ground and disrupting his concentration.

With the immediate threat taken care of, I made a break for the door leading to the entrance of the tower sealing the door behind me by merging the stone of the door and the wall with a quick spell.

"Ithandalis?" Said, someone, in the room in a voice that sounded familiar, but I didn't put the effort into recognizing the voice. Instead, I rushed for the door but a Smite clipped me on the way and I hit the ground.

"Templar Hold!" Said the same voice as before in a tone that commanded attention in the same way as a General on a battlefield did.

Then I recognized the voice.

"I invoke the Grey Warden's Right of Conscription on this mage!" Said, Duncan.


End file.
